Dear Wind Maker,
Each night I hear this awful howl, so strong I almost lose my bowels. And then I know a wind will blow, and soon I’m overcome with woe. For now I’m thrashing and cannot stop. With each bang, my head may pop.
For a moment, there is relief. I’m safe for now, but filled with grief. Time is up and now again, I must endure this endless pain.
While you may think it’s all breezy, I hang here, feeling queasy. To you it may seem like a breath, but I feel as if I’m close to death.